


Ladies of Letters Go Sapphic

by credoimprobus



Category: Ladies of Letters (TV)
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Epistolary, F/F, Femslash, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Older Characters, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/credoimprobus/pseuds/credoimprobus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vera recalls an incident from their trip through Europe quite fondly. Irene, for her part, is somewhat less taken with the memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ladies of Letters Go Sapphic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV (The Ides of Porn), prompts: conflict, shenanigans, letters, arguments, friendship, drink, travel, adventures.
> 
> Because this show and these ladies are a _delight_ , and I couldn't not. :D (Mild spoilers through early series 2.)

Dearest Irene,

As I sat outside my caravan tonight, enjoying the sunset with a nice glass of sherry or two, I came to reminisce about the time we accidentally trespassed on that private beach in France. What an evening that was! I certainly wouldn't have thought that hiding in the bushes from angry landowners might have quite such an outcome.

I can't help but wonder, as I think fondly back on it now, whether our European adventure mightn't have had a happier ending if we'd had a few more "incidents" like that along the way. It did do a wonder for both our moods, as I recall.

Affectionately yours,

Vera

 

Dear Vera,

I can't imagine why would bring that evening up! And if I may say, your rosy recollection of it proves my point that you'd been rather too free with the local wine samples that night.

As to what happened in those bushes, I have said it before that the only reason I kissed you was to keep you quiet. There we were, in fear for our very lives, and you wouldn't stop tittering! Mind you, my chosen strategy didn't keep you quiet for very long, which was... an unfortunate miscalculation on my part, I'll willingly admit. Thank goodness the man with the shotgun had given up and left by then. I dread to think what might have happened if he'd still been there when you started making noises more befitting of a wounded dolphin.

A shallow grave on a beach in southern France is not a dignified final resting place, no matter how beautiful that beach may be.

Kind regards,

Irene

 

Dear Irene,

I scarcely know what to say! Rosy recollection? Too free with the local wine samples? Wounded _dolphin_? You are right about one thing: it's clear we remember that evening very differently. I've always held it as one of the brighter points of our ill-fated journey, a time when all our bickering and disagreement fell away, but apparently to you it's only a shameful secret best buried and forgotten. I'm frankly sad for you that you can't see the positive in it. Life is a lot pleasanter with your glass half full, you know.

I find it hard to believe that any of what occurred did so under duress on your part. Your hands certainly knew exactly what they were doing! I don't think I ever got one off quite like that even with Gerald, bless his soul. If I wanted to be crude, I'd suspect you of a lot of lonely nights to have accomplished such a level of... manual skill, shall we say.

Well, I, for one, shall gladly still toast to the memory of our French beach, regardless of your feelings on the subject. I do hope you'll come around to my view of it one day, though. There are far worse memories one could dwell on from our long acquaintance than that one.

Sincerely,

Vera


End file.
